Maybe you’ve
heard the saying, “I build walls not to keep people out but to see who loves me
enough to break them down.” Or maybe the wording is “climb over them”… either
way, for me it’s that I runaway to see if anybody loves me enough to come after
me.
The only
time I can really remember someone coming after me after I ran out of somewhere
was when a friend and I went to karaoke. We did a song together and sighed up
to do songs alone. I never actually planned on singing solo. I figured there
were enough people that they wouldn’t get to my song before I left. I was right—it
was time for me to leave before my song came up. My friend didn’t want to leave
yet.I left. I wondered around, trying to remember where I parked, for 15-30 minutes before my friend called to ask if I had found my car—she knew me well enough to know that I was bad with directions. I had been walking past the restaurant again when she sang her song—“Sk8er Boi”. She picked me up in her car and drove me to mine. I was so thankful to have a friend who knew me so well and cared about me like that. I even wrote her a letter saying so.
But I look at that night now and I am dissatisfied. Sure, she knew me. But she finished her stuff first before taking care of me. I was less of a priority for her than her song. And thinking about it, I walked around for an hour before she showed up because she was late to everything. An hour walking around with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and feeling like an idiot because people must have noticed it. Life only has so much time, and she had wasted my time.
I left for a few months, and the months leading up to that I held my breath hoping someone would ask me to stay. I at least wanted someone to tell me something other than the generic, “You’ll be missed.” All it would have taken was for one person to give me a reason to stay. No such luck. I left and returned without much fuss.
All I want
is for someone to show me that I am a priority in their life. I want someone to
take a chance on me, trust me, love me, show me that I am worth it. Worth them
potentially making a fool out of themselves to make me feel special. Worth a
risk. I want someone to notice I’m gone and tell me I’m missed. Someone to
think about me when they don’t need to be—when there is no reason for them to
be thinking about me other than that they care about me. Someone who will take
my hand and lead me where I want to go but am afraid to go by myself.
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